


body, baby, body, body (love to funk my)

by bottomlinsons (grimgrace)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, annnyway they're all cis!girls, now proceed, okay i have stood underneath a waterfall and i ten thousand percent dnr, srsly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimgrace/pseuds/bottomlinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants to go hiking, Louis is reluctant and Hawaii is beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	body, baby, body, body (love to funk my)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariadne_odair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/gifts).



> This is a gift for [ariadneodair](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/) (ahahah nope it’s a bribe give me more of your fic pls immediately asap now now now) 
> 
> title lyrics are from Macho Man by the Village People. That’s right

“You know what?! _Fuck you_ Harry Styles – I’m breaking up with you, we’re broken up, we’re _done_.”

Louis’ voice is strung out, hot and harsh. She spits the words with a venom Harry hasn’t heard before, a fury that stretches up to the lines at her eyes and the downturn sneer on her lips.

Then she falls over a tree root.

“Oh no, babe,” Harry coos.

Their “break up” would be significantly more alarming, Harry thinks, if Louis hadn’t dumped Harry several times already (all in the same half hour). Now, halfway up the hiking trail, the running count stands at four ‘ _we’re dones’_ , two _‘I hate yous’_ and sixteen ‘ _fuck offs_.

“Get the fuck away from me,” Louis’ hands lash out savagely when Harry reaches down to help her stand up. She pushes herself to her feet indignantly, brushing off her pants and righting the large pack strapped to her shoulders. It’s just bad luck, really, that when she finally rights herself, she’s got several leaves and a small stick stuck in her messy hair.  “I hate you, fuck off,” she says.

 _Seventeen_ , Harry thinks.

“Are you alright?” Harry says out loud.

“Do I _look_ alright?” Louis snarls.

She does, actually. She looks more than alright. Harry’s been doing a lot of this active stuff lately – mostly at Liam’s wide eyes behest – and Louis’ been teasing Harry relentlessly about her newfound lady-boner for all things gym. Usually, she’s talking out of her arse. But now?

Louis’ breathing heavily, and oh man is it doing just wonderful things to her boobs in that tank top. _Plus,_ she’s got one of Harry’s singlets on – a bright purple tank made from that clingy gym fabric – and it sits a little too low through the front to completely hide the colourful bra underneath. The adorable disgruntled look on her face isn’t swaying Harry either.

And don’t even get her started on the leggings – fuck, _the leggings_.

And Harry has a very real (and very low) opinion of people who objectify women, who reduce women to pieces of meat all wrapped up just for them to undress.

But like – it’s just –

It’s just that the tight and fitted shape of them on Louis’ already glorious arse?

God, it was no wonder Harry’s having trouble concentrating. The only thing her brain could really manage at that moment was the sneaking suspicion that Louis probably wouldn’t appreciate that answer.

“You look great!” Harry says indignantly. _I would very much like to use your bum as a pillow,_ she thinks. “Come on, this is fun!”

She turns and gestures at the long track that stretches out in front of them. It’s framed by low, overhanging trees, light streaming delicately in like something out of a fairy picture book. And sure, the ground is a little muddy and uneven – but that’s only because of the tree roots, and that’s what makes it fun anyway.

“We’re in _Hawaii,_ Harry,” Louis whines, jutting out her lower lip. “We could be at the beach, or at the hotel, or at a bar—”

But they’re not.

They’re in Kauai, as a matter of fact. Harry had woken Louis’ up around eight that morning, before driving them up into the mountain. It had only taken them about thirty minutes to reach their destination: a small hidden ‘village’ that allowed tourists to take kayaks down the river and hike if they felt so inclined. And Harry certainly did – in fact; it’s one of the parts she’d been most looking forward to.

Obviously Louis was a little more reluctant.

“—or at a restaurant, or at the _beach_ —”

“You said beach twice,” Harry interrupts.

“That’s because I wanna be at the fucking beach!”

Harry sighs. “ _Come on_ ,” she pleads, making her pout as potent as she knows how. “We can’t spend the _whole_ holiday on the beach, we’re in _Hawaii_! We have to see the sights at least once!”

“What sights?” Louis demands, swinging her arms around wildly. “It’s just trees!”

She stumbles again, but this time Harry reacts quickly enough to catch her. She swings her hands under Louis’ arms, stopping her fall just as he knees give way.

Louis gives a little ‘ _oof!’_ and her face smooshes into Harry’s chest. She breathes hotly on Harry’s boobs before righting herself.

Harry pouts some more.

Louis rolls her eyes.

That’s all it takes for the heat of their argument to vanish. Instead, Harry feels overwhelmed with fondness. Louis hates hiking, would much rather play a game of football to get her exercise – but she’s _here_. She came because Harry asked her to.

Harry sighs. “It’s not too far to go now,” She says, skating her fingertips up Louis’ exposed shoulder. “I promise we’re super close to the falls.”

Louis looks imperiously though the thick trees and slope they’ve yet to climb, and raises a manicured brow.

“I promise,” Harry says.

Louis softens a little at that. Her brow relaxes and her shoulders drop a little. The leaves in her hair, however, hold steadfast.

She’s kind of fucking perfect, Harry thinks.

Louis folds her arms across her chest and pouts at Harry grumpily. “You said that, like, ten miles ago,” she says.

Harry doesn’t quite have the heart to remind her it’s only a two mile path. Instead she takes a cautious step closer and reaches out to free the foliage from Louis’ hair. Once the leaves have fluttered prettily to the ground, Harry does her best to fix the wayward strands they’ve left behind. Louis rolls her eye, but her body tilts like she’s leaning into Harry’s touch.

“This time I really mean it,” Harry says.

Louis lets out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine,” she sighs.

“I love you?” Harry offers sweetly.

A soft smile tugs at the corners of Louis’ lips. She ducks her head down, her fringe falling over her face as she smiles at her feet. “I love you, too,” she says quietly.

That is, of course, when it begins to rain.

.

By the time they actually make it to the waterfall, Louis’ mood is a volatile mixture of angry and delirious.

Harry had been warned by the hotel staff about the precarious nature of hiking on their little island. Kauai was one of the wettest places on earth, as it turned out, and days free of rain were few and far between. The mountains got the worst, obviously, which meant that the hiking trails were almost the first to go.

And sure, they’d _said_ that the trails would pretty much vanish when the rain started to really land – but Harry hadn’t expected this.

It was like hiking along a mudslide once the rain really set in. The first fifteen minutes were only wet, and _very, very_ cold – but at least there was a path for them to walk in. But after that first quarter hour, the solid mud had slipped away – leaving the girls to rely on the raised tree roots, and their own coordination skills.

It did not go well.

Harry struggled with balance on the best of days – but with the floor slipping out from under her feet, she had practically no hope.

Louis hadn’t fared much better. Needless to say, the fond smile Harry had seen earlier had vanished completely.

On the other hand, Louis’ nipples were pebbling through her top so Harry couldn’t really complain.

“See?” Harry says, taking the piss when Louis stops in the middle of the path. She reaches out and snags Louis’ tit before Louis can even react, tugging on her with a wolfish grin. “This isn’t so bad.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Styles,” Louis snarls, slapping Harry’s hand away furiously. (Harry would like to think that the flush at Louis’ neck is a result of her touch, but it could easily be the freezing cold rain.) “What the fuck are we going to do about this?”

Harry pulls her amused smile away from Louis and looks where she’s pointing.

The smile vanishes.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

“Fuck is right!” Louis screeches. “What the _fuck_ , Harry!?”

Harry shushes her and takes a step closer to the river to consider their options. It’s not a massive river or anything, but Harry probably wouldn’t call it a stream. It looks like it’s only so big because of the rain, though. The track begins again on the other side of the water, so it’s clear the track has always gone through it.

“Piggy back?” Harry offers.

Louis shoots her a savage look. “So you can fall and kill us both?”

She’s got a point.

In the end, Louis crosses first. With a dramatic goodbye to her sneakers (which, let’s face it, have already been ruined by the mud), she steps into the knee high water and struggles across. She goes slow and only stumbles twice. She’s only stopped when she reaches the other side, and has to take a second to figure out how to climb to the track itself. The rushing water has carved away a wall about three feet high. But she manages – and then she turns around and shoots Harry a look. ‘ _Well?’_ it says, ‘ _what are you waiting for?’_

Harry doesn’t do it quite as gracefully when she crosses moments late but they get across with relative ease.

“You are going to pay for this,” Louis snarls – as she tugs Harry up the small wall and onto the track. “Your tongues gonna be cramped for days.”

Even in the cold, Harry feels a shudder of heat shoot up her spine. She wets her lips and swallows almost instinctively.

Louis’ tracks the movement, before she rolls her eyes and keeps walking.

She’s well in the lead by the time they actually reach the falls, driven forward by some kind of ‘the faster we get there, the faster we leave’ mentality.

Harry’s still a little dazed. The heat in the pit of her stomach is the only thing keeping her warm. She only just manages not to collide with Louis, when she comes to a hasty stop.

“Oh,” Louis says quietly.

Harry looks up.

Oh is fucking right, she thinks. The huge pool of water is almost completely clear, and surrounded by huge, shiny boulders on all sides. A few of the rocks look a little hostile, sharp enough to cause a proper injury if Harry were to slip up there – but a small path leading directly to the water has been cleared (like fate has set everything aside with a sweeping bow and said, ‘here. This is all for you’.) The waterfall is only about ten metres tall, but it pours over the short cliff face with a breathtaking elegance Harry can’t quite describe.

Harry’s stumbling forward in just a few seconds, yanking her tank top off as she goes. She only trips a little, regaining her footing in less than a second, but it’s enough for Louis to let out an alarmed squeak.

“One thing at a fucking time!” she snaps, concern littering her harsh tone. “God, you’re going to break your fucking neck.”

Harry slows down and shoots her an apologetic look. Louis rolls her eyes, but Harry doesn’t mind. Panicking about Harry is one of Louis’ favourite pastimes – but she certainly doesn’t like it when she has to vocalise it.

Much slower, Harry removes her wet shorts. It’s just her and Louis at the falls, but she wouldn’t be worried anyway. Her underwear covers more than her bikini does, anyway. She pretends not to notice when Louis looks around warily.

It’s amazing, sinking into the water. They’ve been told to watch out for still water, and the infections that swimming in still water might have – but the falls have churned the water enough to ensure that’s not a problem. It washes away the mud that’s caked itself all the way up Harry’s legs in seconds.

It’s a little on the cold side, Harry notes – but she can’t really complain about that. It’s not like she expected it to be heated, or anything.

“Look, I’m a mermaid,” Harry says, the instant before she ducks under the water’s surface. She plants her feet on the shallow bottom and pushes up with all her might, flinging her hair over her head when she breaches the surface. She’s not sure exactly how it looks, but it sure as hell feels as awesome as when Ariel did it.

“You’re an idiot,” Louis says dryly. She’s sat on one of the rounded boulders and taken her shoes off. Her bare feet are resting gently in the cool water.

Grinning, Harry’s pushes the left over strands of hair out of her face.

“Come on _sailor_ ,” she drawls, pushing through the water towards her unimpressed girlfriend. She holds out her hand and gives Louis her most deadly smile. “Get in and have a swim.”

Louis looks down at her imperiously. The sun has come out and, shining directly behind Louis’ head, makes her look like an avenging angel or something. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she says with a high brow.

Harry gives her a lecherous once over, wondering which part of Louis’ skin she’d like to get her mouth on first. She creeps a little closer, and wraps her hands around Louis’ ankles, dangling in the shallows.

“Mmhmmmm,” Harry murmurs, stroking her finger down Louis’ Achilles tendon. “Very much.”

Louis scoffs loudly, but Harry doesn’t miss her cheeks as they turn a little pink. Flustered, Louis kicks her foot out and splashes Harry in the face. “Get off me, you animal,” she says.

Harry wipes the water from her face and pouts.

After a second, Louis’ face softens.

“Ugh,” she says, sounding much more endeared than Harry thinks she meant to. “Go swim under the waterfall, you knob. I’ll be there in a second.”

.

Standing underneath a waterfall is not, as Harry had been led to believe, a peaceful experience. The water lands cold and it lands hard.

“ _Holy fucking fuck_!” Harry shrieks. “Jesus— _SHIT_ that hurts!”

“ _Oh_ , my god,” Louis says. Or at least, that’s what Harry thinks she says. She can’t hear very well, to be honest.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, fuck, fuck—”

“Harry—”

“ _Ooooh_ my god it hurts so bad.” 

“Then get _out_ you stupid fuck.”

And, like, it does hurt. But Harry doesn’t want to get out.

“No, come on,” she whines. The water is hitting her back so hard she can’t even hear her own voice too clearly, but she can see the sceptical look on Louis’ face—it’s not too hard to tell what she’s thinking. “I wanna kiss under the waterfall.”

Louis’s face twists up. “After you’ve made it sound so appealing,” she says dryly.  

“Come on, Lou—”

“Hell fucking no.”

Her back is going kind of numb now. It’s not the nice kind (like when Louis has a little too much fun with the paddle on their _special_ nights); it’s the kind that only makes the following drops of water sting and sting and sting.

She’s not giving up though. Not now that they’ve come this far.

“Come on, come on, _come on_ ,” she pleads.

“Oh, my god, _shut up._ ”

“No!” Harry shouts as loud as she can manage. “We’ve made it this fucking far, babe. We’re in Hawaii and we kayaked to the trail and then we hiked and now we’re at the waterfall and we’re going to fucking _kiss_ goddamnit!”

“UGH.” Louis shouts. “Fucking _fine!”_  

They kiss.

It’s not pretty at _all_.

.

The walk back is just as bad. The rain’s stopped but the mud is worse and they’re somehow ten times clumsier downhill. They slip and slide back, and they’re pretty much covered head to toe by the time they get back to the kayaks. Louis’ given up on feeling bitter – too preoccupied with getting them home.

She’s slightly hysterically by the time they get back in the water.

“Oh, Haz,” she moans as she steers from the front of the kayak. “Just think about it – a hot _shower_ , oohhhhmygod just imagine.”

She doesn’t calm down when they bank the kayak, or when they’re rubbing as much of the mud from their bodies as they can with grimy old towels. It gets worse as they get in the car. When they round the corner and their hotel comes into view, she lets out a little shriek.

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” she says as they pull into the car park. “Oh, my god – shower, oh, my god.” She pushes the passenger door open before the cars even stopped moving, fumbling with the keys and out of the car like a speeding bullet – her mantra the only thing left in her wake. “Clean, clean, clean, clean, _clean_.”

Harry parks the car as quick as she can, and races after her girlfriend. The mud caked on her short chafes at her thighs as she struggles not to break the ‘no running’ rule. She ignores the startled (read: vaguely horrified) looks on the faces of the people she passes by as she fights to keep up.

The door to their room is swinging closed by the time Harry gets there. Harry shoulders her way through in the last second, and follows Louis straight to the bathroom – where Louis’ already turning the shower taps on.

“Oh, _god_ ,” Louis’ moans as steam begins to fill the room.

She shucks her clothing faster than Harry’s ever seen. The purple tank, practically fused to her skin at this point, squelches loudly as she pulls it off and lands with a wet slap on the tiled floor. Her underwear comes away with her jeans, which peel off her skin reluctantly and leave a soaked, wet shine on her thighs. As she struggles, her muddy fingers leave scrapes of colour across her skin. Her bra lands in the sink. Finally, she reaches up to the twisted and grimy mess her ponytail has become, and yanks the elastic out – along with several flyaway strands of her own hair.

She’s in and under the hot water before Harry’s even kicked off her shoes.

Louis’ bare skin – her bare, _wet_ skin – is more than enough to spur Harry into action. The clean water runs in rivulets across Louis’ collarbones, distorting her tattoos as it streams down and washes over her tits. Louis lets out a pornographic moan and tilts her head back, letting the spray rush over her and down her long neck.

Harry’s naked in fucking seconds.

“Shove over,” she says as she steps under the spray. She ruins the effect a little by crowding as close to Louis as possible, bringing her hand up to the soft curve of Louis’ waist and pressing her lips against Louis’ neck.

“ _You_ shove over,” Louis says, and, well, she’s always been a little more forceful than Harry.

She bats at Harry’s head, squirming away from Harry’s wandering hands. But it does more harm than good – her arse shares de- _fucking_ -lectably and Harry can’t even help herself.

“I’m trying to get clean,” Louis rants furiously, “you can wait your fucking turn—”

She doesn’t notice as Harry sinks to her knees.

“—this shower isn’t big enough for the two of us and I swear to god I’m small but you _know_ I fight— _holy shit_!”

Louis’ back slaps against the shower wall.

“Thank you for coming hiking today,” Harry says casually, pressing her palm roughly where Louis’ the hottest. She rolls her wrist a little and Louis’ knees wobble.

“ _What?_ ” Louis snaps. (And god isn’t she just the only girl in the world who can sound _that_ irritated with a finger on her clit.)

Harry presses down a little savagely, basks in the way Louis hisses.

She leans forward and presses her lips to Louis’ hipbone. “I _said_ thank you,” she whispers into skin pulled tight there. Water rushes from Louis’ skin across Harry’s lips before flowing over and spilling down Louis’ legs.

“Wh—” Louis’ voice is so broken and breathy and beautiful. She twists her hips sharply, grinding her body down against Harry’s hand and fisting her hand in Harry’s hair. She tries again, with more success. “What are you talking about?”

Harry nips at the soft flesh of Louis’ abdomen and presses her fingers inside.

“Well, I know you didn’t want to come today,” she says casually, lifting her voice to be heard over Louis’ weak mewling. The hot pull at the roots of her hair stirs a delicious heat in Harry’s belly, but she can be patient. This is about Louis. “And I’m glad you did, so _thank you_.”

She curls her fingers then stifles a giggle when the slide of Louis’ back on the tiles makes an awful squeaking noise.

“Fuck,” Louis says, and she’s shameless now. She brings her free hand down around Harry’s wrist and holds her steady as she screws her hips down desperately. “Fuck, stop – stop talking.”

Harry pouts. “ _Don’t be rude_ ,” she says pointedly, flicking her thumb roughly over Louis’ clit once more.

Louis squeaks.

“Shut—” _up,_ is clearly what she’s trying to say – but she doesn’t make it that far. The end it is lost on a loud, breathy exhale.

Harry allows herself to feel a little smug. “Sorry, love?”

Louis, for all her grinding and panting and whimpering, still manages to shoot Harry a withering glare. She digs her fingers into the flesh of Harry’s wrist – this time to still the hand _inside_ her.

“Harry,” she says (and _fuck yeah_ Harry knows that voice – that voice that’s talked her through the blindfolds and the spanking and all the other things wrapped up neatly in a box underneath the head of their bed.)

Harry keeps her eyes wide, and innocent, gazing up at her girlfriend.

“Yes, dear?”

There’s a tease to her tone, which is probably why Louis yanks abruptly on her hair again. It’s not hard, from there, to guide Harry exactly where she’d like her.

“Now correct me if I’m wrong,” Louis says – sounding sharp and hot and dangerous – “but I believe we’ve already discussed how you’re going to thank me.”

It’s not too hard to draw up the picture – Louis, ruined with rain and mud, eyes light with indignant fury, hissing threats about Harry’s tongue. Nor it is hard to react, the same frission of cool excitement from hours earlier, thrilling up Harry’s spine as she leans a little closer.

“Mmhmmm,” Harry hums. “I believe you said something about my tongue?”

.

**Author's Note:**

> ((((((((is it weird to gift someone smut?)))))))))))))))) 
> 
>  
> 
> ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((sorry eve)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))


End file.
